Mea Familia, Vita Mea
by April Rane
Summary: Before they became family members, they had to realize it first. Chronicles each member's realization that what Carlisle Cullen created really is a family. SLV TITLE CHANGE from "Meus Prosapia, Meus Vita."
1. Catching On

_a/n These will just come when I have time, but ideally each "chapter" will be based around the idea that, since Carlisle _created_ a family, it takes time to actually accept the family. Each chapter will be someone's realization that they are part of a family, not just a random assortment of vampires._

_That said, I do not apologize for making Edward a true White Sox fan. SOUTH SIDERS, BABY!_

_**Catching On—Wisconsin, September 1920**_

It was official. Today was the worst day in the history of Edward's life so far. He glared down at the newspaper headline, wishing yet again that he was able to cry.

_Eddie Cicotte and Joe Jackson Admit to Taking Bribes in World Series_

It was tough to keep from going back to his home town to raise hell. A die hard White Sox fan, Edward had been keeping close tabs on his team since speculation had begun about the Sox throwing last year's Series. Now, with the admission of two of the players, Edward felt more let down by the White Sox than he ever had before.

The front door opened then closed again, and Edward quickly hid the newspaper as Carlisle entered the sitting room. Carlisle's thoughts at the moment consisted of a recap of the day's work, and considering hunting again tonight. He smiled warmly at Edward as his eyes fell on him.

"Hello, Edward." Carlisle sat down in a wing-backed chair and crossed his legs. "Have a good day?" His eyes were twinkling, but he was still thinking hard about hunting.

Edward shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it.

Carlisle's smile turned a little smug. _Should have been a Cubs fan, son._

Damn it all. "How did you already hear?" Edward cried. "The paper just got here, and you already know!"

"I passed a newsstand on my way home," Carlisle said, pretending to be occupied with a stray thread on the cuff of his shirt. "It's a hard headline to miss. I don't know how you can still be a fan after this."

"Yeah, don't rub it in," Edward muttered, frowning down at the newspaper again. "And I'd sooner eat human food every day for a year than root for the Cubs."

Carlisle chuckled, sitting down in his chair and picking up a medical journal he'd been reading before work. His thoughts turned to the inner workings of the digestive system, and Edward heaved a sigh.

"If you're bored, you could run out to the car and get the box in the backseat." Carlisle's lips were turned up a bit around the edges, and he was translating the Bill of Rights into Latin in his head.

Curious, Edward followed Carlisle's advice. In the front drive, Carlisle's Ford was parked under the little shelter they had built for it. As promised, there was a sealed cardboard box in the backseat, and Edward glanced back to the house as he reached for it. It had his name on it.

Was he supposed to open it?

Slowly, he walked back inside, trying to find out from Carlisle's thoughts what might be inside. There was nothing but Latin and medicine.

_You can open it, son. It's for you._

For some reason, Carlisle was thinking about the front page of the paper again. Kind of annoying, really, that of all the things he could think of he was thinking about the complete debacle the Sox were now in.

Sighing, Edward opened the box.

When he saw what was inside, his mind flashed back to another time, another place, another life...

_It was September of 1917. The sun was bright overhead, and the air was just starting to cool a little. The breeze coming off the lake was nice and cool, and Edward pulled his arm back and shot it forward again as hard as he could._

"_Ouch!" Laughing, his father pulled off his baseball glove and examined his hand. "That was a good one, son!"_

_Grinning from ear to ear, Edward readied his glove for the return throw. He caught it at the same time a voice called from behind him._

"_Eddie, don't you dare get your pants dirty." His mother was frowning at him from under her umbrella. "We don't have time to change before dinner."_

_Edward rolled his eyes. "Mother, _please_ stop calling me that."_

"_Stop calling you what?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with teasing mischief._

"_Eddie." He threw the ball back to his father again, feeling a little bit of pride when Edward Senior winced again._

"_How will you know I'm not talking to your father if I don't call you Eddie?" She leaned back in her low chair a bit and inhaled deeply._

"_I don't know, dear." Edward watched as his father tossed the ball up in the air and caught it again. "I call him Edward all the time and he always knows I'm talking to him."_

_His mother rolled her eyes. "That's amazing, dear."_

"_You could just call me 'Edward.'" Edward caught the ball when his father finally threw it, trying to catch his son off guard and failing miserably. "Besides, dad gets a kick out of people calling him Ed."_

"_Sure do, dear."_

"_Alright, darling, I'll call you Edward." Elizabeth smiled. "Your father can be Ed." Her eyes were watering a bit, and Edward was certain he knew what she was thinking._

_Her little boy was almost a man. A man who was going to go fight in a war as soon as he turned eighteen._

_Trying to ignore the pain in his mother's eyes, Edward threw the ball back._

Pulling himself back to the present, Edward stared down at the two gloves and the ball in the bottom of the box. On the porch, he heard Carlisle's footsteps as he walked slowly out of the house.

"I'm still learning," he said softly. "But I asked a few of the doctors and all of them said they like playing catch with their sons."

_He doesn't like it._ Carlisle's thoughts were worried. _I shouldn't have-_

Edward could do nothing to stop the smile that crossed his face as he looked into the box again. "Really? You want to play catch?"

Carlisle nodded. "If you'd like to, that is."

"I've always wanted to see how hard I could throw it now," Edward said, the words coming out in a rush. "I used to play in the street sometimes after school and I always threw the hardest." He was thoughtful for a moment, remembering back, before he added, "I ran the fastest, too."

Carlisle laughed, and Edward could hear the relief in his thoughts. "I've never had a chance to play before. I was always too worried I'd hurt the humans, and I've not had anyone else around, really." He was at Edward's side in a flash, and he pulled one of the gloves out. "Come on. Let's see how hard you can throw."

Two hours later, the pair of them were standing about a hundred yards apart, yelling playful insults at each other, laughing as each tried to throw harder than the other. It was a wasted effort, both of them nearly equal in strength, but Edward couldn't remember having so much fun with his new father.

New father...

As he threw, Edward remembered Carlisle's thoughts of Edward as his son. How he'd always wanted one, but it was something he could never have. He thought of how Carlisle was his father in so many ways already.

His patience. His genuine love and concern for Edward's happiness, and the five thousand dollars he'd spent ordering and having delivered the grand piano in their living room, the grandest Edward had ever played on. Of how Carlisle listened to him play, happy to see Edward happy. How, when Edward had had a few slip ups in his earlier days, Carlisle had not judged him, and had coached him through learning resistance with little tidbits of advice.

How, knowing Edward was going to have had a bad day, he brought home something to cheer him up.

Those were the things a father did.

Edward knew, as he threw the ball back, that Carlisle would never try to take his father's place in his heart. But he decided that he would make an exceptional adopted substitute.

_a/n This will go chronologically, so up next... MOMMY CULLEN!_


	2. Blue Spruce and Mistletoe

_a/n To answer a PM, the title of this story is Latin for "My family, my life." I thought the Latin was a nice touch—Carlisle probably knows it very well._

_Also, if you'll recall, Edward took over a year to get used to the idea of having Carlisle as a father. You'll notice Esme takes considerably less time. That's just how I read her character. That said, Esme's memories are not as warm and fuzzy as Edward's. If domestic violence makes you sick, please feel free to skip the italicized memories later on._

_You have to see this car. It's pretty, fancy, and cost a good chunk of change in the 20s. But not way too much. http://www . jaylenosgarage . com/your_garage/cars/7834 . shtml_

_**Blue Spruce and Mistletoe—Maine, December 1921**_

Esme watched from the front window as the snow began to fall. This was not where she had planned to spend Christmas, but it so far exceeded any plans she may have had.

Except for one thing.

Heaving a sigh, Esme ran a hand over her flat stomach. Three months. It had been three months since the worst day of her life, which had also been, in some ways, the best day of her life. Three months ago, she had tried to kill herself by jumping from the highest cliff she could find and into the frigid waters of Lake Superior. She had awoken three days later to find herself not only healed but perfect.

That day was the day she had accepted that there was a God, and she must have done something to please him.

Now, as she sat in a little house on the coast of Maine, she thought she must truly be blessed to have been taken in so willingly. Carlisle was more wonderful than she could have imagined, and she was quickly falling more and more in love with him. Dangerous, maybe, but she didn't care. He was wonderful. And his son, Edward... Well, he took a little getting used to.

Right on cue, the gangly young man with the bronze colored hair came rushing inside, a grin on his face.

"Almost enough for snowballs," he said excitedly, and Esme laughed.

"If you throw snowballs at me, I'll throw back."

Edward laughed. "I've got a surprise for you," he said, and he seemed even more excited about his surprise than the snow.

Esme smiled indulgently, wondering what he could have possibly gotten her that she could need. She already had Carlisle. She allowed Edward to grab her hand and drag her outside. He pulled her to Carlisle's car, a big Holmes sedan with four doors, the fanciest thing she'd ever ridden in. Once she was perched in the front seat, Edward was instantly behind the driver's seat. She'd never seen him drive before.

"You know how to drive?" she asked, a little enviously. Charles had never let her drive, hadn't even let her learn.

"Yep." Edward turned the key in the ignition, and the car started, shuddering and shaking and roaring. He glanced over at her, and smiled again. "I could teach you sometime. It's really very easy."

Esme smiled and folded her gloved hands in her lap as Edward pulled away from the house. It would be wonderful to learn how to drive. She thought longingly of learning the control she needed. Maybe when she wasn't constantly thirsty, she could go into town and do some shopping.

The conversation was light as they drove through the softly falling evening snow. Every so often, Edward would ask Esme a questions—what her favorite color was, what kind of books she liked to read, if she preferred classical to romantic music. She supposed she didn't need to answer aloud, since he could read her mind, something she still wasn't used to, but it was nice to have a conversation with someone.

After a while, Edward slowed the car to a stop and parked on the side of the road. Esme frowned, looking around.

"Where are we?"

Edward grinned and, like an excited little boy, pulled her hand and led her into a nearby field of...

_Christmas trees_.

"Pick one," Edward said, smiling. "I've already paid the owner so you don't have to smell him." He winked.

_Pick one?_ "Which one?" she asked, automatically afraid to make any decision that might upset him.

"Any one you want." Edward turned her so that she was facing the trees, which varied in size from a little above her waist to well over Edward's head.

Slowly, timidly, Esme put one foot in front of the other. If she were human, she'd have nervous butterflies in her stomach. What if she picked the wrong one? Would he be angry? She bit her lip.

_It was a quiet afternoon in mid October. The sun was muted behind the clouds, but what light could escape filtered down in red and yellow hues through the leaves on the trees. It was a beautiful sight, and Esme sighed heavily as she thought of how she wished she could just go for a walk._

_Maybe once she was finished putting away the groceries, she'd see if Charles would be interested in sitting outside with a glass of lemonade with her. Maybe, if he was in a good mood today..._

"_What the hell is this?"_

_Esme spun around, startled. She was met by the sight of her husband of six months holding a can of coffee and frowning down at it. She was confused._

"_It's coffee, dear," she said, a little nervousness creeping into her voice. Why was he upset?_

"_Really?" Charles sneered. "I never would have guessed." He crossed the kitchen in two strides and grabbed both of her wrists in one of his big hands. She flinched as he shoved the coffee can in her face. "Read the goddamn label, you useless piece of shit," he growled. "What does it say?"_

"_Maxwell House?" she asked, confused._

"_And what should it say?"_

_Oh. She hung her head, realizing what the problem was. "I'll go back to the store," she said, staring at her shoes. He let go of her wrists, and she felt the tears begin to sting her eyes. "I'm sorry, Charles."_

_She jumped, yelping as he pushed her back into the counter. "How hard is it to buy the right coffee?" he shouted, still just inches from her face. She kept her eyes on her shoes. "Jesus, Esme, you're fucking useless!"_

"_I'll take it back," she whispered, wringing her hands together. _Please God,_ she begged silently. _Please...

"_You bet you'll take it back," he yelled. She cried out when his hand connected with her face, hard. She'd be lucky if it didn't bruise. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, dammit!" She shook her head, terrified. "Look at me!"_

"_Please," she whimpered. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."_

"_Right," he growled, and she heard his belt unbuckle and whip out from his belt loops. "You won't buy the wrong coffee, you'll just fuck something else up." She screamed when he grabbed her, turning her around and pushing her up against the counter. Her screams turned to sobs as he brought his doubled up belt down on her over and over._

_Later, she walked back slowly from the market clutching a can of Eight O'Clock Coffee, her husband's favorite. Charles would probably be angry that she was taking so long, but it hurt to walk any faster..._

"Esme?"

She jumped and looked up to find Edward staring at her. He looked like he wanted to throw up, and she realized that he would have heard all of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, and she looked down at her shoes out of habit.

Edward was silent for a moment before she felt his hand, very gently, slide under her arm. She jumped a little, but let him lead her out into the trees. They walked quietly, and she looked up at the big spruces as he led her through.

"Do you see any you like?" he asked, and his voice was a little timid.

Esme timidly nodded toward a beautiful young blue spruce that stood a little taller than Edward. "Is that one alright?"

Edward followed her gaze and smiled. "Is that the one you want?"

She nodded timidly, and he grinned at her.

Two hours later, Esme opened another box of ornaments that had come from a Sears Roebuck catalog. Carlisle had arrived home an hour before with them and surprised her with a kiss on the cheek before setting her loose with enough decorations for the entire house. She'd set to work at once, and at the moment, Edward was wrapped in garland and hanging a wreath over the fireplace while Carlisle wrapped the tree in fancy electric Christmas lights. The fancy radio in the corner was playing Christmas music that she could just hear over the boys argument about whether or not the lights would ever really catch on with the general public. She smiled as she thought about them as "the boys." Her boys, really.

She wasn't paying too much attention to them, so she was surprised when a strong arm wrap around her from behind and lift her up. She giggled as Carlisle kissed her cheek, grinning at her. Edward rolled his eyes.

"Of all the things to order from a catalog," he muttered, and he went back to his garland.

Esme looked up to see that Carlisle was holding a sprig of mistletoe over her head and she laughed.

"I've never gotten to kiss anyone under the mistletoe," he said, defending himself as he gave her a chaste peck on the lips. "Someday, Edward, don't be surprised to find me stalking you with the stuff when you go crazy for some girl."

Edward rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "Not going to happen," and Esme grinned at Carlisle.

"I'll help you," she whispered in his ear, and she laughed again when he carried her to the doorway and lifted her up so she could hang it up.

She glanced around the room after he had let her down and gone back to his lights, and smiled. Her life had taken an interesting turn, and she was grateful for it. Finally, she could spend Christmas with her family.

_a/n Up next: HRH Rosalie Hale... Reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	3. Brotherly Love

_a/n As proof that I do read your reviews (which I'm very bad at replying to and usually do only when something really strikes me), I'm really considering an outtake involving Edward, Bella, mistletoe, and a rogue Carlisle... The idea intrigues me. I may write it and put it out in a few months. Damn you, HesMines!_

_And now, I give you... Rosalie. Battered, angry, irrational, bitchy as hell. God, I love her!_

**Brotherly Love—Kentucky, 1934**

For the past two hours, Rosalie had sat at the abandoned piano, trying in vain to pick out something that sounded like a real song. She'd mastered a few children's rhymes, but nothing good. She supposed she'd brought it on herself, but Edward really had crossed the line this time. He'd been out in the garage tinkering with the car and trying to avoid her for the past two hours, and she'd been periodically calling him all sorts of foul things in her head to keep him away from her while trying to not think of how much his words had hurt her.

_Rosalie tossed her long blonde tresses behind her back and stalked back toward the rustic log cabin. This was _not_ what she had had planned when Carlisle had asked if she would mind leaving Rochester. She'd thought maybe the city, or another small town in a different state. She had not planned for mountains, dirt, and a cabin that was old, even by Civil War standards. This was not where someone like her belonged. She belonged in a comfortable mansion like the one the Cullens had lived in back in Rochester. It was like she was being punished._

"_You're not being punished," a voice said behind her, sounding annoyed. She turned to see Edward, his bronze hair windswept and his face pulled into a bit of a grimace. "_I'm_ being punished."_

"_You're the one who decided it was necessary to throw half my clothes out in the rain."_

"_You started it." Edward pretended to toss his hair as if it were as long as hers and walked, perfectly imitating her gait and voice, back up to the house. "'I'm Rosalie Hale, and I think the entire western world should bow to me.'"_

_Why was there never anything in her hands to throw when she needed it?_

"_You were too busy worrying about your hair to think you'd need anything to throw at me." Edward smirked back at her._

"_Stop reading my mind!" she barked, stomping after him. She felt a little satisfaction when she felt the vibrations of her steps under her feet. So much power..._

"_Stop following me." Edward let himself in the house, and she stared after him in annoyance as he slammed it behind him, despite her clear intention to enter after him._

_The boy really could be a cad sometimes._

_Rosalie let herself in and slid out of her shoes. She could hear the strains of a Chopin nocturne drifting in from the family room, and she felt a stab of jealousy once again that she quickly squashed. She didn't need to play piano. She had enough good looks to get her by._

_The nocturne stopped and was replaced by a thunder of notes as Edward slammed his hands down._

"_You're not that good looking, you know," he called, and she could hear the sneer in his voice._

"_At least I'm better looking than you," she shouted back, her feet carrying her to the living room before she was really conscious of the action._

"_At least I have more to go off of than looks," he shouted back, knocking over the piano bench as he jumped to his feet._

"_At least people want me," she growled._

_Edward laughed bitterly. "You haven't learned a thing," he said, glaring at her. "You think people want you? You're right, Rosalie. They do. They only want one thing. Nobody in their right mind would want you for you."_

_Rosalie's mouth dropped open. She couldn't even believe he'd said that out loud._

"_Edward!"_

_Esme stood in the doorway, a trowel in her hand and a look on her face that almost made Rosalie shrink back. Edward certainly did. She seemed to tower over him as she stalked toward him, the little shovel held out in front of her like a weapon of punishment._

"_I do not know what has gotten in to you, but this kind of behavior is unacceptable!" When Rosalie snickered, Esme rounded on her. "And you, young lady, need to learn an acceptable time to close your mouth! Neither of you is going to leave this house until one of you apologizes." Rosalie did not dare refuse._

It had been two very long hours. Only once had Rosalie tried to step out, but she had been scared back inside by a rare hiss from Esme. Now, she sat at Edward's piano, torn between trying to find a book to learn from and destroying the instrument completely.

She decided against the latter. It would just get her in more trouble.

After a few minutes of searching, Rosalie gave up trying to find a beginner's book. Edward had been playing piano since he was a little boy. He didn't have any need for learners' books.

A knock on the door frame interrupted Rosalie's search. She frowned at Edward as he walked into the room. His hands were stuck deep in his pockets, and he was staring at his shoes, scuffing the carpet with them, as if they were fascinating.

"I thought I'd come see if you wanted help," he muttered.

Shock coursed through her, but she frowned more deeply. "Why?"

"You get too frustrated too fast," he said, still not looking at her. "If I don't help you, you'll never learn."

She opened her mouth to argue with him out of habit, but then stopped. He was right, after all. Hadn't she just been thinking that this was pointless?

"Fine," she muttered, folding her arms and watching as Edward pulled his hands out of his pockets and moved to sit down. He glanced back at her and patted the bench next to him. Stiffly, Rosalie made her way over to sit down next to him, seating herself on the edge of the bench and crossing her ankles with her hands folded in her lap. Edward rolled his eyes and grabbed a hand, forcing it to curve a little.

"Here," he said, putting her hand on the keys. He adjusted her fingers until each one was on a separate key. Then he did the same thing with her left hand. "Now, do exactly as I do." He played a few notes, and she echoed them back slowly, her fingers feeling a bit clumsy. He did it again, and she played back. For the next hour, Edward would teach her something, then show her music.

"You see?" he'd say. "This is what you just played." He taught her the notes and after a while gave her new music she'd not yet played and told her to play it for sight. Not having read music since she was a little girl, it was slow going.

The sun was setting behind the clouds several hours later when Esme came back inside, and Rosalie glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. She was standing in the doorway, Carlisle's hand in hers, smiling across at the pair of them at the piano. Edward was teaching her a duet on piano, a little Mozart song, and when she finished, only making one mistake, Esme and Carlisle clapped.

Rosalie couldn't help the little smile that pulled at her lips. "Did you like it?"

Esme beamed. "It's lovely, Rosalie."

"Edward taught me," she said, nudging her brother with her shoulder.

Edward's eyebrows raised at something, and she stared at him confused. It took her a minute, but it finally clicked. So did everything else.

When she'd been human, Rosalie's way of showing love to her younger brothers had come in various forms. She could remember teaching George to tie his shoes, and picking on Andy on the way home from church, picking fights with him and calling him names. It had driven their parents crazy sometimes.

Now she was doing the same thing. Certainly, the fights she had with Edward were over quickly, never lasting more than a day or two, but she really did love him like she'd loved her human brothers.

She'd never had an older brother before, though. Never had she been taught anything by her brothers like Edward. She'd heard before from her friends that big brothers were supposed to be very annoying, but very fiercely protective. Her mind flashed back to a man in the market a few weeks ago that had been staring at her. Edward had glared at the man until he'd looked away. It had felt nice to have someone looking out for her, especially when Edward had muttered that he didn't like how he'd been thinking about Rosalie.

"I don't like it when they do that," he'd said. "You're too good for them, anyway." The tone of his voice had not in any way indicated that he felt anything like _that_ toward her, so maybe this was what it had been over.

Now, Edward rolled his eyes at her and nudged back, nearly making her fall. He laughed. "Wouldn't want you to slip and ruin your hair, would we?"

Rosalie scowled. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugged and stood up. She heard his feet pause, but before she could turn around, she felt his large hand on top of her head and she squealed indignantly as he mussed her blonde hair.

"You jerk!" she shouted.

He laughed. "Sorry."

"No, you're not."

Edward's eyes rolled. "Not about your hair so much, you're right." His hands went back in his pockets, and he looked down at his shoes again. He was quiet for a moment before he said, "I'm sorry I said nobody would like you for you. It was rude of me. And it's not true."

Rosalie laughed bitterly. "In case you haven't noticed, Edward, I'm a bit of an ice queen."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But you're also very intelligent and sometimes you can be interesting to talk to when you're not so focused on clothes and hair."

"Gosh, Edward," she said dryly, "that's so kind of you."

But it was. He didn't see her that way—he never had. He wasn't going to point out things that he found attractive about her, and he wasn't going to compliment her without a little insult tacked on at the end. It was the same way her brothers had been. Rosalie got to her feet, smiling at him timidly. He glanced up from under his lashes and smiled back.

"Sure you're pretty," he said, suddenly sly, "but I'm faster than you."

"Race you to the bridge and back?"

Edward laughed. "You're on."

As they raced out of the house, Rosalie heard Esme laughing behind them, and Carlisle's chuckle of delight. As she raced behind Edward, trying to think of a way to trip him up, she smiled. It was nice to have a real family again.

_a/n Up next... The House Crusher._


	4. Sunset

_a/n I would like to direct your attention to the link below. I know it's a pain to delete all the spaces, but this is SO worth it. I frequently use images to get an idea of what to write, and this one is so beautiful I'd cry if I weren't so hyped on coffee. It's so beautiful I put it on my desktop, which I haven't changed in... Yikes, two years! I've had that same damn flower on there and not cared at all and this beautiful photo, worth a little over a thousand words, is now in its place.  
_

_http : / / www . marcadamus . com / photo . php ? id = 2 & gallery = favorites_

_And now, I give you, Emmett!_

_**Sunset—Alberta, 1936 **_

Looking out of the window, Emmett was stunned again by the beauty of his new home. He'd lived in the mountains his whole life, but those mountains looked like hills compared to these. They were covered in snow and craggier than those in Tennessee. They were almost the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.

_Almost_.

Smiling, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to where Rosalie sat on the sofa next to Esme, her chin propped up on her fist as she flipped through a catalog. She huffed impatiently as she scowled down at the book.

"What's the matter, dear?" Esme asked, her voice placating.

"I don't know which kind to get," Rosalie said. "I love the silk, but the way they say this chiffon hangs seems just lovely." She glanced up at Emmett, and her gold eyes brightened as they met his. "What do you think?"

"I think whatever you get won't matter. It's not as pretty as you," he said firmly, and Rosalie giggled, burying her nose in the catalog again. Across the room, Edward rolled his eyes.

_Sorry._ Emmett laughed again. _Race you to the top of the mountain to make up for it._

Edward glanced up and raised his eyebrows. "I'm faster than you," he said bluntly.

"You're scrawnier than me, too," Emmett retorted, and he watched with glee as Edward's eyes lit up with the challenge.

Five minutes later, the pair of them were perched on top of the nearest peak looking out over the range. The sun hidden behind another mountain as it set and the sunset was bathed with deep reds and golds. The reflective waters were partially iced over, and they reflected the sunset behind the mountain flawlessly. The two of them sat side by side in silence, staring out at the remarkable sight in silence.

Edward seemed a little uneasy as he leaned back on his hands, his eyes slightly troubled as his face reflected the red light from the sunset.

"What's on your mind?" Emmett asked quietly.

"Has Rosalie told you anything about..." He paused, seeming almost unwilling to continue.

Emmett understood. "Yeah." He frowned at the sunset, recalling that day almost a month ago now. They had been hunting alone in the mountains, and things had begun to progress from kissing to a higher level of intimacy when Rosalie had frozen in his arms. The look on her face had been one of fear, and he had frozen immediately, afraid to continue. Sobbing in his arms, she'd spilled the story of her past. How she was afraid of intimacy, how she'd wanted nothing to do with any man ever again until she'd found him, how she was afraid he wouldn't want her now that she'd told the truth. How she'd thought she was ruined.

Edward winced, hearing Emmett's thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them. His face was full of pain, and Emmett realized that Edward knew Rosalie's story better than he. He'd seen it first hand through her memories.

"Yes," Edward said softly. "I know her story better than any of the others. She's not crazy about that, but she's gotten used to it." Edward sighed heavily and turned to Emmett, crossing his legs. "She really does think all of those things. She let her thoughts about herself get twisted in the beginning—I remember. For someone so sure of herself, she has a very fragile disposition."

Emmett nodded, wondering why he was bringing this up. He clearly didn't like talking about it.

Edward smiled slightly, glancing back toward the sunset. It was just a quirk of his mouth, but it was the first time in a year Emmett had ever seen him smile. It made him look more like the seventeen year old that he was. "You're right. I hate talking about it." His face sobered again, and he looked back at Emmett. "But I have to."

Shaking his head, Emmett started to answer, but Edward heard the thoughts and stopped him with a held up hand before he could get the words out.

"No, I do. No one else knows it like I do. It's one of the things I wish I didn't have to know," he said, and his eyes drifted out of focus. His face twisted into an expression of pain. "What happened to her that night... It made her more fragile than she'll ever admit. She puts up an amazing front, and she can usually fool everyone. In the beginning, Carlisle and Esme thought she was dealing with everything so well. I didn't have the heart to tell them that the only thing she thought of for the first two weeks was how she was ruined, how she wasn't sure she could trust anyone ever. She's not completely over it now—I'm not sure she'll ever be."

Emmett turned away from Edward. He couldn't look at his face anymore. It was too painful.

"She's my sister," he said softly. "For all her flaws and for as angry as she can make me, she's my sister and I love her. I'd never wish for anything like that to happen to her ever again. I don't want anything bad to happen to her at all, ever. She doesn't deserve it."

It was clear, now, why Edward was bringing this up. It was a warning.

"I won't ever hurt her like that," Emmett said, his voice softer than he'd ever heard it before. He couldn't even imagining seeing Rosalie like that again, knowing that it had been his fault. That he'd done something to cause her that much pain.

"I don't think you will," Edward said, and he smiled again. "I don't think you can. But you should know," he added, and there was an undisguised tone of threat in his voice, "if you ever hurt her or make her cry, I'll kill you."

"Oh, Eddie, I love you, too!"

From nowhere, Rosalie leaped onto the rock beside her brother, reaching up before he could move out of the way to tousle his already unkempt bronze hair. He ducked out from under her, a smile still on his face as he elbowed her in the ribs. "How would you like it if I messed up your hair?" he teased.

"You wouldn't dare," she retorted, tossing the hair in question over her shoulder. "You love me too much."

Edward stared at her for a full five seconds before, quick as a flash of lightning, his hands reached out and grabbed all of her hair, piling it up and rubbing it against her skull before he darted back down the mountain, crowing with laughter.

Rosalie scowled after him, then turned her scowl to Emmett. He couldn't help the chuckles of laughter that escaped, despite his attempts at repression. He motioned to her with his hands, and she settled down next to him while he ran his hands through her blonde tresses, straightening them until they were back to normal.

"There," he said, smiling. "All better."

A breathtaking smile graced her face. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Watch the sunset with me?" he asked, holding out his arms.

She smiled again and moved to settle into his broad arms. She was so small against him, and he pressed his lips gently to the top of her head. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you, too," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed a kiss against his shoulder.

"I'll never hurt you like that," he vowed.

He felt and heard more than saw her smile. "Edward's just being overprotective."

"Maybe, but I think he'd really kill me if I made you cry. Or, at least, dismember me."

"I'd kill or dismember him back," she said. She sighed softly and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"I just won't make you cry," Emmett said, smiling down at her. "Out of respect for your family and my love of living, I promise to do everything I can to make you happy."

"They're your family, too, Em," she said, turning her beautiful face up to him. She was lit up red and gold by the sunlight, and she had never looked more beautiful than at that moment. "They love you, too."

As they watched the sun slowly sink behind the mountains, Emmett contemplated her statement.

He remembered how Esme had fussed over his slacks when they had arrived from the Sears-Roebuck catalog and not been long enough, then how she'd proceeded to make him a pair of her own. She'd called him "dear." Just like his mother had.

How Carlisle had patiently taught him to hunt, rewarding him with a "Well done, son," and a hearty pat on the back when he'd completed his first kill successfully. Just like his father had.

How Edward was always up for a wrestling match, or a race, or a game of cards. Just like his brothers had been.

The sun had set on his life in Tennessee, but now had risen on a whole new one. Only this was better.

Now, he had someone who wanted him to look through catalogs with her, when he'd rather be hunting or wrestling. Someone who frowned when his pants didn't match his shirt. Someone who laughed with him, who held his hand, who let him hold her in his arms, and who made him feel like he was finally, for the first time in his life, complete.

He had Rosalie.

_a/n As much as that girl gets on my nerves sometimes, I love her anyway. Up next... I'm not saying who. _

_Thanks very much for your patience with my general slowness. I work as a one woman show so I have to do all my editing on my own. My schedule's really wacked right now, as well. I'm in the middle of student teaching (Oh, freedom, you are so close I can nearly taste you!) and I just switched placements so I'm really RUNINCIRCLESHOLYSHITGRABYOURASSANDPRAY at the moment. So, thanks. Reviews make me really happy. And a little horny. Just kidding. Kind of. Review. I love you..._


	5. Interlude

_a/n Ha ha! I give you Jasper! This is an interlude, however, and not a technically "real" chapter. Meaning maybe more Jasper later, if you'd like. This is pre-Cullen, post-Alice Jasper. That said, if you'd like to argue foliage with me, I'm a very stubborn Midwestern girl. I maintain that Midwestern foliage is the bomb, because you never know exactly what you're going to get—pretty colors, or lots of brown. That just makes it all the more beautiful._

_I feel absolutely atrocious right now and I can't go to school because my CT is pregnant, so that's why this update's so quick. Enjoy._

_**Interlude—somewhere in the Midwest, October, 1949**_

The smell of harvested grains drifted up the hill to where two vampires lay, side by side, listening to the toils of the farmers in the fields.

Thankfully, the smell of dust and corn and pollen was strong enough to mask the human scents from below.

Jasper leaned up, reclining on his elbows so he could still lay in the grass that was still green while staring up at the trees above him. The day was cloudy, and his new companion had assured him it would remain as such. Apparently, this wonderfully dismal weather was quite common here, wherever here was. Illinois, Kansas, Wisconsin... He didn't really know, and he didn't really care. Wherever they were, he was staring up at something he'd only seen in pictures.

The unprecedented autumn foliage of the Midwest.

Reds, oranges, purples, and yellows of a thousand different shades. The muted light filtered through the trees, making the light that hit Alice's face a muddle of all three. Her eyes were closed, not in concentration, but in content.

She was more beautiful in that one moment than she had ever been. Her dress had long since been abandoned and hung over a branch on a nearby tree near their shoes and his slacks and shirt. Her bare skin contrasted sharply with the dark green of the grass, the light turning her body so that it almost looked flushed. There was a small, almost smug, smile on her face, and she radiated happiness even more so than usual, if it were possible.

It was so strange to be lying here with her, as if she'd always been here. As if she'd always known him. He wasn't used to having a companion, and it was better than he could have possibly imagined. He let his hand wander to her side, tracing the curves of her body from her hip to the soft skin at the edge of her breast, down and back. Over and over.

She sighed softly, and her golden eyes opened. She smiled at him. "Hello."

Chuckling, Jasper did not bother to stop the motion of his hand. "Hello," he replied, smiling more widely when she stretched, purring like a much-loved kitten, under his fingers.

"You're very happy today," Alice said, smiling a little more softly as she gazed up at him.

Jasper considered before answering. "I'm happy," he whispered, rolling so he could bury his face in her soft flesh, "because you are."

She radiated more joy than ever and he felt her fingers twine in his hair. It felt wonderful. He couldn't help himself. Before giving it a second thought, he exhaled as fast as he could, blowing a raspberry against her soft belly a split second after she squirmed, trying to get out from under him. She squealed with laughter, giggling like a school girl as he repeated the action, this time letting his fingers tickle her sides. She laughed uncontrollably and he did not want to stop, enjoying the way her voice pealed unrestrainedly.

Somehow, she wound up turning the tables on him, and he found himself lying below her, his back against the soft grass, laughing more in this one moment than he had in his life as her fingers found the most sensitive spots at his sides. She continued for a good five minutes before he finally managed to capture her wrists in his hands and yank her down so that she was flush against him. She giggled again and rested on his chest, snuggling so that her head was just below his chin. Her hands lay flat against his chest, and his wandered up and down her back.

Later, when they were once again lying side by side, this time, with her playing with his hair, she finally spoke.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked softly. Her voice was a little husky still, and the sound of it made him feel more comfortable, more at home.

Jasper knew what she was talking about. It had been the same thing she'd been talking about since he'd met her almost a year ago. He considered his answer carefully before he spoke.

"I want you to be happy," he said gently. "I want you to be just this happy, or even happier, if that's possible. If finding the Cullens means you'll be more happy than now, then that's what I want."

"I'd be happy with just you, though, you know."

It really was like she'd known him his entire life. Bizarre, how she seemed to read his mind, and he, hers.

Smiling, Jasper held her a little closer. "As long as you're mine, I don't care where we go."

He felt her lips curl against his shoulder. "I'll always be yours."

"Good." He leaned down again, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "And I'm yours, so where you lead, I'll follow."

He felt a wave of adoration and love wash over him, radiating out from her like beams of sunlight. Like she was his own personal sun of happiness and love. "Do you have any idea how much I love you for doing this?"

Jasper frowned despite himself. "I'm not doing a very good job," he said softly, thinking of the muddled color of his eyes, not unlike the burnt orange of the leaves in the trees above them.

"You're doing an amazing job," she said, and there was encouragement in her voice, just like always. "It's not going to be easy. It's not supposed to be. It's not the same, I know."

What he had ever done to deserve such an angel, Jasper would never know. It was like she had been sent to take his demon soul out of hell and into a new, happier life. A life he never thought he would find. Had given up on looking for.

He would never forget the way she had looked that day in Philadelphia. The way she'd felt. How, when she'd hopped down from the stool, the first thing he'd noticed was how happy she was. The second thing was how she didn't even come up to his shoulder. The sound of her voice, teasingly scolding, telling him she'd thought he'd never arrive. The warmth of her hand when she'd taken his, pulling him back out into the rain, chattering nonstop. Her name was Alice, and his was Jasper. He was from Texas, and she was from nowhere. How she'd seen him. How he'd barely heard a word of this, cataloging it in the back of his mind while he'd focused on her face, her strange but nevertheless beautiful eyes.

The absolute, undiluted and unpolluted joy pouring off her and drowning him. How it had felt when he had resurfaced and she'd been staring up at him, her head cocked off to one side. How hard he had laughed when she'd asked if he'd been paying any attention to her, at all. He remembered the sound of her laughter complimenting his when she'd joined him, clutching at her sides and all but rolling in the dark alleyway.

The way her lips felt, molding to his, when he'd first kissed her, her body curving to meet his. The feeling of home when he'd rested in her arms later, their legs still twined together, in the dingy hotel room she'd taken him to. How her lips had felt, tracing every scar on his body, memorizing them.

She always felt like home.

Right now, home was on a hill somewhere in the Midwest, lying in the grass with Alice's fingers tracing the scars on his chest. Home was the contented feeling surrounding him again.

Home was where she was.

_a/n Aw, Jalice fluff! My favorite. Leave me love and reviews. They'll make my tummy feel better._


	6. Just Enough

_a/n Shockingly, Alice's proved to be the hardest to write so far, as I got a few ideas, started on them, then scratched them. I finally decided that, for it to really work, we need to go out of chronological order. So…_

_A big thanks to Wikipedia and the History Channel (I highly recommend watching "America-Story of Us" miniseries) for reminding me what was going on in 1935.  
_

_**Just Enough—Oklahoma, April 1935**_

Black Sunday, Alice thought, as she stood in the middle of the street. She smiled. Appropriate, she thought, since so many days had been labeled black already. Black Tuesday. Black Thursday. Now, Black Sunday. It was just a matter of time, she thought, until this all blew over.

She laughed at the choice of words with which her mind had come up.

In any case, the "Black" days of what would be known as the Great Depression would get brighter soon. She scanned forward for anymore of these days, and was confused when she saw herself, some time in the future, talking with Rosalie about Black Friday shopping. Strange.

Looking around, Alice frowned. Jasper wasn't here, either. In fact, she hadn't seen him anywhere near the south in sometime. He must have finally moved on, like she knew he would. Another wild goose chase that would eventually lead to her family.

She turned to head back up the street, putting a scarf over her face so the roaring dust wouldn't get in her mouth or hair. She walked forward with no difficulty, amazingly, still able to see through the wall of dust in the almost completely dimmed light. She wondered idly if Jasper was out in the storm, and caught a flash of sometime in the very near future…

_The fire roared in the fireplace, and Carlisle was watching his two children play a card game. Rosalie sighed heavily, and looked outside. Her haughty face was bored._

"_Isn't there anything more exciting to do that play cards?" she asked—whined, really._

"_Now, Rosalie," Esme said placating, "if you go out there, what happens if someone sees you?"_

_Rosalie pouted and plopped back slightly in her chair, throwing the cards to the table. "It's no fun playing with him anyway," she said, haughtily glaring at her brother across the table. "He cheats."_

_Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Rosalie," he said sarcastically, "but I will stop cheating one day. It's the same day you stop being a—"_

"_Edward!" Esme's voice was cutting, and her eyes were sharp as she glared at the pair of them._

_Edward's head snapped to the door, suddenly, and he looked out the window. "Wow," he whispered. "Carlisle, look!"_

_Soon, the entire family was gathered around the window, and it was quiet for a moment before Rosalie suddenly said, "Oh, hell, we forgot to put the car away!"_

_She dashed out the door, hefting the front of the car up and pulling it into the garage, which she quickly bolted shut before jetting back inside. The rest of the family were darting here and there about the house, stuffing rags in little gaps in the windows, under the door, anywhere the dust would get in._

_There was about ten seconds between the time they finished and the time the dust hit their house._

Alice had known this storm would be huge, had seen New York City as well as the country house outside of Rochester. She scanned forward a bit, and saw quickly that the Cullens would not be in New York more than another month. They were moving again. Mountains?

_Finally_, Alice thought to herself with a smile, _Emmett!_ She was almost as excited for her new brother as Rosalie would be.

Odd, she thought, that she'd never met them, and they knew nothing of her, but that she already thought of them as her family. She wouldn't meet them for over ten more years—she knew that. She still had quite a few until she found Jasper. Still, they were going to be her family. She saw glimpses of the happiness they would find there—Jasper's wrestling matches with their brothers, shopping with her sister, things that would happen irregardless of what else happened.

There were fuzzier things, things Alice could barely see and that gave her a headache to try to look at—places they would go, schools they would attend, and a fuzzy, faceless woman with brown hair. She had no clue what that last one was about, and it hurt to try to figure it out, so she'd long since stopped trying.

The dust swirled around her as, with a sigh, Alice continued her trek alone, thankful for being out in the day, even if the day was clouded by dust.

_**15 Years Later**_

Edward stood in the middle of what used to be his room, watching Alice dart around, putting things away. She smiled happily at him.

"Sorry about your room," she said cheerily. He could tell from her thoughts that it wasn't vindictive, she was just really happy.

_Brother,_ she thought happily, smiling at him. _I have brothers! And a sister!_

Edward shook his head. She'd been here two hours, and already looked at them as family. It made him curious, and he observed the little pixie girl as she bounced from here to there. It had been a while before he'd accepted Carlisle as family, and he was about to open his mouth to say as much when she interrupted him, beaming.

"I've had a long time to get used to you all, even though I haven't been here," she said, smiling. Her mind flashed back through her memories, back to the beginning. What he saw surprised him.

"Nothing?" he blurted.

Seeing her delicate brow crinkle and a little frown on her lips was unsettling. It just looked _wrong_. She shook her head. "The first thing I remember was seeing Jasper's face. Then you all." She hung her head and released a heavy sigh. Her thoughts were a little sad.

She wasn't sad for long. Edward heard Jasper's thoughts from the study, where he was talking quietly with Carlisle, and a split second later, felt a rush of happiness rush over him and Alice.

Alice's frown disappeared and she laughed, a tinkling sound like bells that made Edward smile, too. "Usually, he's the sad one and I have to cheer him up," she said happily, resuming her mad unpacking spree. "It gets switched every so often."

Edward shook his head. "It's a very unusual talent, to be sure."

Alice laughed again. "Mine, too," she said. "We're perfect for each other."

Suddenly, Alice's mind flashed to a brief, fuzzy image he didn't understand. She didn't quite seem to, either.

"What was that last one?" he asked.

Alice shook her head. "I don't know. I see her from time to time, but I don't know who she is, where she's from, or when I'll ever meet her. I can never even see her face—it gives me a headache to try." She scrunched up her nose, and the expression was so funny, Edward couldn't help himself.

If he were able, he'd have tears rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't ever remember laughing so hard. He clutched his sides unnecessarily, rolling on the floor in hysterics. He heard the thoughts before he heard the footsteps, and knew from the thoughts and scent that Esme had darted upstairs. Edward managed to open his eyes long enough to point at Alice's face, which was now scrunched up even further in confusion.

_Edward?_ Her thoughts were a bit concerned. _Are you alright, dear? Goodness, I've never seen him act like this!_

"Her face," he managed, "is so… funny!"

Alice's peals of laughter joined his as Esme's face went from surprised to confused, but soon, she was laughing, too. After a few minutes, he could hear the conversation in Carlisle's office start to break apart as both men struggled to keep in their snorts of laughter. Jasper's influence swept over the whole house, and before long, he could hear Emmett's booming laughter, and Rosalie's giggles.

The laughter of the family, which now consisted of seven vampires, shook the house well into the night.

_a/n Yikes! Warm fuzzies galore! Review—I do love them so._


	7. At the Hop

_a/n Okay. Time for two things at once—soapbox and thanks. Soapbox: Among other things, I'm a teacher. As such, I get random questions all the time—what's this mean, how fast is this supposed to go, what do I do when this breaks, etc. Sometimes, I get a question that I don't know the answer to, and I find out. I hate when teachers refuse to acknowledge their mistakes, or even begrudge a student for challenging them. I love a challenge, and I love when someone says, "Um, no, you're wrong." As long as I can do my research and get it right._

_Thanks: To Mia, for graciously pointing out an error of mine (very kindly, informatively, and constructively, I may add)—the title of this story SHOULD be "Mea Familia, Vita Mea" or something to that effect (for real, let me know if that's right—I did more research, and it sounds right). My original source lied to me—it was somewhere on the net, and I've slept since then. Shocking, that the internet can be wrong… We call this lost in translation, dear children ("prosapia" is more vague and references more of an ancestral lineage, if I've got it right). Mea culpa __ So beware, __**at some time in the future, the title will change.**_

_Now, on to what you came for—Jasper wants his say! This chapter needs to be dedicated to Mia, the girl who I'm sure is the sweetheart that will tell you, "Hey, honey, you've got something on your ass," get it off for you, and give you a hug when you're embarrassed about it _

_**At the Hop—October, 1956**_

It was becoming increasingly difficult to make a decision. One the one hand, he wanted to dance with Alice, who was currently out on the gymnasium floor with Rosalie in a Dior dress, the pair of them laughing and swinging each other around. He wanted her tiny body in his arms, wanted all the pubescent boys in this room to know that she was his, in every way possible.

On the other, it was absolutely hysterical to watch Tanya's attempted advances, and feel Edward's extreme discomfort.

To Edward's credit, he'd changed from his usual laid back look into slacks and a vest over a white shirt. He'd tried to comb his hair, knowing Tanya liked it messy, and the result made him look quite odd.

Tanya, on the other hand, was attracting the attention of a good chunk of males in the room, both teenaged and teachers, in a dress that was probably illegal in some states. It was a black cocktail dress, too short for many, but completely in Tanya's sexed up fashion, with only a single strap holding it up—sleeveless, for all intents and purposes. Her long legs flowed endlessly, and her blonde hair was curled tightly. It hugged her like a second skin, and had absolutely no affect on his asexual brother, except extreme discomfort.

She tossed her head back, sighing heavily, for all intents and purposes trying to look as if she were bored, but Jasper could tell her real intentions. The lust pouring off of her made his pants a little tighter, and he shifted in his seat, shaking his head apologetically at his younger brother.

"I wish _someone_ would dance with me," she said, staring up at the ceiling, her chest jutted out in a way that would have been seductive to anyone else. She rolled her head off to the side and pouted over at Edward, who pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm so damned bored."

"I don't dance," Edward muttered, and Emmett chuckled. Edward's eyes narrowed at Emmett, and Emmett's laughter increased.

Tanya stretched her arms over her head, making a show of bringing them back down, blatantly running them down the sides of her barely-contained breasts. She sighed again, still pouting, as Edward turned his attention to the band. Despite being told over and over by Emmett that it would just be easier if he had Tanya and got it over with, Edward constantly refused. Despite her constant attempts at backing him into a corner, trapping him under mistletoe, staying at home with him while everyone else went out hunting. Despite her comment the other day that she preferred the new brassieres to corsets, because they were easier to get off. Despite her walking around in a towel that, more than once, she'd accidentally dropped in front of him with a sly, "Oops."

He'd looked away, hidden in the woods, locked himself in his room, and she still didn't get the hint. Unless she got the hint and was just really relentless.

A wave of discomfort rushed over Jasper, and he felt a bit of pity for his brother. He watched as Edward, uncomfortable and reeking it to everyone but Tanya, ran his hand distractedly through his hair.

Exit the attempt at tame, enter the messy hair that Edward normally sported. Tanya's lust level spiked, and she reached over to tousle it some more. Edward stayed stone still as she spent an unnecessarily long time messing it up again.

"I don't like your hair all slicked back," she said, smiling coyly. "I like it messy."

A burst of laughter burst out of Emmett. If it were possible, tears would have been rolling down his cheeks. Edward batted Tanya's hand away and stood up abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning on his heel, his head low as he stalked from the gym.

Tanya scowled and leaned across the table toward Jasper. "So be honest—he's gay, right?"

"Excuse us," Jasper said stiffly, trying hard to contain his own laughter while grabbing Emmett by the elbow and dragging him out of the gym after Edward.

As soon as they were out the front doors, the laughter Jasper had been trying to hold in escaped, and the two of them stood outside laughing for several minutes before Jasper was able to sober up.

"Where'd Edward go?" he asked, glancing around.

Emmett pointed to the car, where Edward's profile could be seen leaning up against the back. They made their way over at human speed, sobering up as they went, but still trying to keep it in. When they reached him, he was scowling at his feet with his arms crossed.

"Just to be sure," Emmett said, his eyes twinkling, "you're not a queer, right? Because I think you've seen me naked a time or two, and I don't want to be the star of your masturbatory fantasies." In perfect imitation of Tanya, Emmett tossed his head back, brushed back imaginary hair, and jutted his chest out, pouting.

It worked. Edward burst into laughter, and Emmett joined him. Jasper grinned. "Girl knows how to lay it on thick, doesn't she?"

"Jesus, I thought she was gonna try and jump him at the table," Emmett managed to get out through his laughter.

"She thought about it," Edward said, still grinning. "I think she has the most vulgar mind I've ever heard."

Voices arose out of the darkness, and the three of them squatted down behind the car.

"I don't think so," one voice said, and Jasper recognized it as Murray Lewis, a greaser who prided himself on his many female conquests. "I mean, I've been in the locker room with him a bunch of times and he's never looked at anyone twice."

"Come on, man." Murray's friend, Andy, was with him. "She's a fast babe—did you see her showin' him her tits?"

Edward mimed beating his head against the parking lot.

"Yeah, but see that dress she's got on?" Murray laughed. "Two words for you, man—high maintenance. He's not queer—he just doesn't wanna be one of those guys following after some doll down the city streets holdin' a poodle and eighteen bags."

"Well, if he doesn't plan on doin' her, I may just introduce myself to the lady and offer to show her around town." Andy's voice was joking, but Jasper could tell he was serious.

"Go for it man," Murray said. "Just don't call me when she wants a ring from Tiffany."

Their voices started heading off to the school, and Emmett's voice broke the quiet.

"Well, looks like you're off the hook for a while," he said, laughing. "She's so pent up, she'll probably put out to the first thing that moves."

The three of them rolled with hysterical laughter again, and Jasper found he was having a better time outside than in. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was embarrassed at having to hold back from killing the people around him. He knew Alice was watching closely, and so was Edward, but it didn't stop from making him feel worthless.

Edward had stopped laughing, and was staring at Jasper. Emmett, oblivious, was still chuckling. "This I gotta see," he said, and he got to his feet, glancing around the parking lot before jetting to the door and back inside to watch Andy's play for Tanya.

Edward moved to sit next to Jasper, and said quietly, "I'll stay out and keep you company if you don't want to go back in. Or I can go get Alice."

Jasper considered for a moment before he answered. "You're more than welcome," he said, grinning. "You keep me from killing the locals, and I'll protect you from Tanya."

"God," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "I can't handle her anymore. I mean, she's pretty and all, I'm not denying that." He sighed heavily, and Jasper suddenly realized that Edward hadn't really been able to talk about this with anyone. He could feel his brother's frustration, and it frustrated him back to realize that this was taking more of a toll on him than anyone else realized. "There's just no interest for me. She's so transparent, I don't even need to read her thoughts. I mean, you heard them—" Edward jerked his head at the direction Andy and Murray had gone— "people think I'm a queer. I'm not—I just hear too much."

"No mystery," Jasper said, nodding. "That really would kill any shot at romance."

"Yeah," Edward agreed. Then he grinned. "Plus, she's not my type."

Jasper raised his eyebrows. "You have a type?"

Edward shrugged. "I guess. I don't like blondes," he said, bitterly.

"I picture you as more of a brunette kind of guy." Jasper slid his feet out in front of him. "Everybody's got a type. Mine's short, brunette, and bouncy, with a little crazy tossed in for good measure."

"I'm not crazy." Alice's voice was bitter as she bounced around the car. She was pouting at her husband. "Edward, be a nice brother and tell him I'm not crazy."

"I would," Edward said seriously, "but I don't like lying to my own family."

Alice's eyes narrowed. "I know where your tickle spots are," she said.

"I know where yours are."

"Not if I don't think about it."

Jasper grinned and reached around his brother quickly, before he'd really made up his mind whether he really wanted to annoy his wife or not, and hooked a finger around the back of her knee. She squealed and hopped away, plopping gracefully behind Edward.

The moment felt good to Jasper, who was tired of fighting with his nature, trying not to kill people and drink their blood. Alice had felt at home with the Cullens before she'd even set food on their door, but it was taking him longer.

Today was the first time he'd really felt like part of the family, he realized. He's stopped looking at the Cullens as "them" and at himself as separate. They'd accepted him, just like Alice. He wasn't sure why they had, but it felt good.

He watched his brother try to defend himself from Alice, laughing when Edward would see her attacks a split second before they happened, and blocked her with his hands. The three of them were so distracted that they didn't hear footsteps, or a car door opening and closing.

Edward suddenly froze, his eyes wide, before he groaned. "There's no escape, is there?"

"Oh, my God," Alice whispered. "_That_ is one of the things I don't look for."

"Gross."

Jasper glanced across the lot to where a car was rocking back and forth, moans and groans emanating out, only perceptible to their sensitive ears.

"Does she know we're out here?"

Edward buried his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. "No. That's disgusting. Seriously, I want to vomit right now." He wasn't saying something, Jasper knew from his level of disgust. An errant thought struck his mind, and just as he started to dismiss it, Edward's head snapped up. "Exactly," he said disgustedly.

Alice frowned. "What?"

Jasper was trying very hard not to laugh. "She's picturing Edward while she… you know."

Alice's jaw dropped. "Ew!" she squealed.

The rocking paused.

"Run for it," Edward muttered, and the three of them bolted into the trees.

"We know nothing," Jasper said, laughing, as they raced back home. His brother shuddered briefly before Jasper's infectious mood got to him, and the three of them were in hysterics by the time they got back home.

They tried to sober up, but when they passed their parents in the living room, Carlisle's simple question, "Where's Tanya?" killed the sobriety. The three of them resumed their laughing, and it wasn't long before Carlisle and Esme had started, too.


	8. Interlude II

_a/n This is dedicated to the fabulous dazzleglo, without whom these stolen moments would never have been thought up. Also, to her, I dedicate Emmett's disco suit. It's white. Just for you._

_**Part I**_

_**A Rolling Stone—Chicago, December 1978**_

Edward sighed dramatically as he slunk a little deeper into his chair, staring at Emmett with slightly raised eyebrows. He watched as his brother did up his tie and pulled on his jacket. Emmett glanced at himself in the mirror and turned to look at his brother, holding his hands out to his sides. _How do I look?_

Edward's eyebrows went up a little bit more. "You're going to a club wearing that?"

Emmett scoffed. "It's the style now, man," he said, shaking his head.

"I know," Edward said dryly. He glanced down at the blue patchwork silk shirt he wore, at the denim bellbottoms. He owned a disco suit—Alice had bought it for him for Christmas, and he'd never worn it. These were the only clothes he could really tolerate. It was clothes like Emmett's that _really_ made him miss the fifties…

Alice breezed around the doorframe at that moment, a book in her hand. Her little nose scrunched up. "Ugh, Emmett, really?"

"What?"

"No, honey. Just… no." She made a show of gagging. "God, I can't wait until the seventies are over." She paused. "Or, for that matter, the eighties. Ew."

Her mind flashed over the strangest looking pants Edward had seen yet. They would be called stonewash. They were revolting. And, of course, Emmett would own a pair.

Emmett rolled his eyes as Alice settled herself on the loveseat. "I look fly," he said stubbornly. "Just 'cause you don't like the style, don't mean it ain't the style."

"Whatever," Alice muttered, opening her book. Edward glanced at the title and scoffed.

"Stephen King, Alice?" He picked up his own book.

"_Brave New World_, Eddie?" She smirked. _Scandalous, for its day. Interesting choice._

He conceded, nodding at her and grinning as she flashed to a vision of them arguing book choices, where he was losing.

Emmett was no longer concerned with either of them. Rosalie had made her descent, wearing glittering makeup that would serve to make her look more "normal" and to ward off the humans. She also wore a black, purple, and silver sequined jumpsuit that showed off more cleavage that should be legal. She'd curled her hair and put on platform shoes, making her even taller and leggier than usual. To anyone else, he supposed, she would look amazing. Alice certainly seemed to think so, and squealed her pleasure.

Jasper wasn't too thrilled. As he came downstairs, he picked up Emmett's lust at the sight of his wife's chest, so prominently displayed. He tried hard to ignore it, and Edward gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to his brother.

"If you come back here and wreck any of the furniture, I'll be sure to take what you were using for your brain, remove it, and put it somewhere you can't find it for weeks." He narrowed his eyes further. "Got it?"

"Got it." Emmett grinned. "Maybe we just won't come back." With that, he grabbed Rosalie's hand and was gone.

The house was much quieter after that. Someone had left the radio on, and he spent most of his time ignoring it and focusing on his book. Jasper had settled next to Alice, reading some book on the Civil War. It was peaceful like this, just the three of them—Carlisle and Esme were still in Brazil.

"Oh, I _love_ this song!" Alice said suddenly, as the new Rolling Stones song came on. She hummed along for a moment, her foot bobbing, before her eyes went out of focus…

_A girl, maybe around ten years old, was sitting in the back of a car while "Beast of Burden" played on the radio. She was complaining that she didn't want to move…_

_A teenaged boy with curly hair and brown eyes, laughing and playing baseball with his friends. Same song…_

_Blurry woman, dark hair, no face, but her body moved gracefully to the music…_

Alice's eyes refocused and she shook her head. Edward raised his eyebrows.

_What?_

Edward let his eyes slide out of focus then back before cocking his head curiously.

_Oh._ Alice sighed and pretended to go back to her book. _No idea what that was. It's annoying when I get random visions. _He opened his mouth to speak, but Alice was a step ahead of him. _And no, I don't know who they are._

So while the snow came down outside, Edward let his thoughts settle on the world Aldous Huxley had created while Alice looked forward to things she deemed more important, like the fashions she _would_ like in the eighties….

_**Part II**_

_**He Wore a Raspberry Beret—Michigan, January 1987**_

For all intents and purposes, it looked like Alice was paying attention to the lecture and taking notes. It was partly true. She _was_ taking thorough notes. In reality, she was trying to see if she'd ever get Emmett to get rid of those God awful stonewash jeans.

She had a vision of what looked like ten or fifteen years from now, moving again… Emmett hiding the jeans in question…

Forward again, to a big room, someone saying, "Oh, my God, I thought stonewash jeans were an Alice no-no…" Not a voice she recognized.

The hand that belonged to the owner of the ugly jeans poked her and her head snapped up.

"Miss Cullen?" The geometry teacher, Mr. Mays, was staring at her, eyebrows raised, pointing to a problem on the board.

"It's a trick question," she answered quickly, smiling prettily. "That's an actual root, so reducing that radical would give you a whole number."

"Very good, Miss Cullen." Mr. Mays continued on with his lecture.

"Nice," Emmett whispered. Alice turned around quickly to stick her tongue out at her big brother, who grinned.

Alice's eyes slid out of focus again…

Oh, hell.

Alice turned her head slightly to the side, and caught Emmett's eye. She jerked her head slightly to the door and whispered, too softly for the humans to hear, "Jasper."

Emmett nodded.

Alice shot her hand up, and Mr. Mays glanced her way. "What is the next step, Miss Cullen?"

"I think I'm going to be sick, Mr. Mays," she said, and without waiting for an answer, she rose at human quickness and made her way out the door. Behind her, she heard Emmett excuse himself, saying he'd help his sister.

Emmett was already digging in his backpack when he rounded the corner, taking out the bulky Motorola mobile phone Carlisle and Esme had given them to use in case of emergency. Alice snatched it and made a quick phone call on the way down to the office, and right on time, the office phone rang.

Alice did her best to look pitiful as she sat in a chair, curled up with her head on Emmett's shoulder.

"Marquette High, this is Randy," the woman behind the desk said, smiling sympathetically for a moment at Alice before saying, "Oh, Mrs. Cullen! You have great timing. I have Alice in here, and she's not feeling well… Absolutely… Emmett's here, too, so I can send him… Alright, have a nice day." Randy hung up the phone. "That was your mom," she said. "She was getting ready to pull you for today, anyway—some kind of family emergency?" She shrugged. "Emmett, would you go get the rest of your siblings?"

Emmett was out of his chair and out the door. Alice looked ahead, saw him get Jasper first before getting Edward from his neighboring English class. They sandwiched him before walking down another hall to get Rosalie from chemistry.

In four minutes, the rest of her family was rounded up and a crisis was averted. They sighed out, Jasper not breathing a bit. They piled into Edward's car, a black Volvo that he'd received last month for Christmas, and started back home. Jasper's remorse filled the car.

Alice giggled, and Edward grinned, turning up the radio a bit.

Emmett was digging through Rosalie's bag, while Rosalie raised her eyebrows. He produced a pink beret, put it on his head, and started doing some odd dance to the radio, which was now blaring, "Raspberry Beret." Alice's giggles grew until the five of them were laughing hysterically.

_A woman with brown hair was humming to herself while she cleaned a little yellow kitchen. She was dancing to the radio, which was playing "Raspberry Beret," and singing along. A door opened, and the woman turned, grinning from ear to ear. A man in a police uniform entered the little kitchen and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to sit on the counter. He kissed her, long and leisurely, before pulling back to smile at her._

"_How was your day, babe?" he asked._

_She was still beaming. "I had a doctor's appointment this morning."_

_The man's chocolate colored eyes glinted with concern. "Everything okay?"_

_The young woman bounced a little on the counter, seeming unable to keep in her excitement. "I'm pregnant, Charlie!"_

…_a little girl with brown hair and brown eyes sat at the same kitchen table years later. The man with the curly hair and eyes that matched the little girl had a bit more age to his face now, and he smiled at the little girl, who was maybe three or four years old…_

_Alice was staring at a woman's back, admiring the way her brown hair fell down her shoulders in waves, watching as she put ornaments on a Christmas tree…_

_Edward walking through a parking lot in a rainy town, wearing Ray-Bans and scowling…_

"Dammit!" Alice folded her arms and pouted.

"Dammit, the random visions, or dammit, I still wear Ray-Bans in the future?" Edward grinned over at her.

"I hate those stupid glasses." She scowled.

Edward laughed. "You'll never get them away from me. They make me look _good_."

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "Trying to impress someone?"

"Nope." Edward turned off the main road and onto the driveway of their house. "If you get to wear a raspberry beret, I get to wear my Ray-Bans."

"Raspberry berets are cool," Rosalie said, taking her hat from Emmett and putting it on before admiring herself in the rearview mirror. "Ray-Bans are just overpriced accessories."

Alice shoved her random visions into the back of her mind and focused more on the Ray-Bans she was stuck working with, and how to make them look super fly.

_a/n Hmm… Wonder what that was? Another interlude before Bella, I think. Review!_


	9. Interlude III

_a/n There are no words for this._

_Yeah, it's early and I got nothing right now except for the Everly Brothers in my ears and coffee in my mug._

_**An Encounter—Forks, Washington, November 2003**_

The sex sounds coming from downstairs were easy enough to ignore when one had had eighty years to practice.

Edward sat back on his heals to admire his new walls. The acoustics in this new room would be the best he'd ever had them. At this point, he had unpacking down to an art, but still. This was always the best part. Making it so his room would fill with music other than…

"Emmett Cullen, so help me God if you break through anything in this house, I will murder you!"

The thudding and moans stopped abruptly. Esme's voice cut through all of it. Edward snorted.

"Shut up, Edward!" Rosalie's voice was biting. _Jealous…_

Edward bit back the comment he so wanted to throw and hopped out the open window and into the rain and black night.

He ran until he couldn't hear them anymore. He was at the edge of the town by then, and he stopped just on the edge of someone's yard.

The lights in the house were off, and there was no car parked in the driveway. He slowly made his way out to the sidewalk, his mind going over his own thoughts. He was glad no one could hear them.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with this. Something had to change soon, that was for sure. Being the seventh wheel in a house with three matched couples wasn't the most exciting thing ever. It wasn't painful, really, just awkward.

Awkward enough to make him walk at a slow human pace.

He was grateful that he'd been wearing a hoodie and a beanie when he left the house. He'd look a little less suspicious if anyone drove by. He wasn't sure who would, though—it was Thanksgiving, and the little town with its small town virtues was occupied by family dinners right now.

He was counting cracks in the sidewalk when he heard a car behind him.

The thoughts of the man in the car weren't very complex. A vague wondering of something, probably the kid walking down the street in the rain and cold. The car slowed, and Edward realized it was a police cruiser. He heard a window roll down, but he kept his eyes downcast and kept walking.

"Son?" The voice was low and a little concerned. "You okay?"

Edward nodded and kept walking, not looking over. He wasn't sure what the cop was doing in this part of town in the first place. It was the edge of town, and very quiet.

"You oughtta get out of the rain, son," the cop said. "Can I drive you anywhere?"

Somehow, Edward sensed that this do-good cop wasn't going to leave him alone until he'd taken him somewhere.

Edward stopped on the sidewalk and stood for a second before he turned and stalked toward the passenger side of the cruiser and got in.

He was glaring at the dashboard when the cop spoke. "Where you headed, son?"

Edward thought for a moment, not really wanting to return home. Carlisle was working tonight…

"The hospital," he said.

"You okay?" There was a frown in the cop's voice.

"Fine," he muttered. "That's where my dad works."

He expected questions, but got none. It was odd, like the guy wasn't thinking about the situation at all. He was a little confused, but it didn't seem very articulated.

It was quiet for a minute or so before the cop finally spoke. "Thought I knew all the kids in town," he said. "You here visiting family?"

"No." Edward looked out the window, still scowling. "My family just moved here."

"Oh." The cop's voice didn't change much. "You one of the Cullen kids, then? I know Dr. Cullen works at the hospital." Edward nodded. "Nice guy, your dad."

The cop seemed genuine, and Edward glanced over at the man.

He was actually kind of good looking, for a guy around forty. He had curly brown hair that was barely flecked with gray, and wore a brown mustache. His face bore the lines of time, but it didn't detract from his looks. His appearance was that of a guy who worked, went home. Probably single.

"Do you always work holidays?" Edward asked. "Don't you spend it with your family."

The cop shrugged. "I've worked holidays for years. My daughter lives in Arizona with her mom, so I don't really have family around here. I work it for the other guys."

"That's nice of you."

Again, the guy shrugged. "Not a big deal," he said. "It's part of my job description."

Despite his misery, Edward managed a smile. "Single cops have to work harder? Why should you have to suffer just because you're single?" Ironic.

The guy cocked an eyebrow. "I'm the Chief of Police," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If they don't do it, I have to."

"Oh."

Silence fell for a moment before the chief cleared his throat. "So, what year're you?" he asked.

"I'm a freshman."

The chief nodded. "Same year as my daughter. She lives in Phoenix with her mom."

Edward nodded and did not respond. That was the end of conversation, and a comfortable silence settled in the car.

Two minutes later, the chief pulled into the parking lot of the Forks General Hospital, and around to the Emergency Room entrance. Having seen the cruiser pull up, Carlisle had exited the building, and was confused to see his son riding shotgun.

_Edward?_ His father's thoughts were concerned. _Are you alright, son? You're not in trouble, are you?_

Edward minutely shook his head.

_You mean, no you're not in trouble, or no, you're not alright? Nod, if you're not in trouble._ He was a little frantic. What a parent.

Edward nodded, just slightly, as the car came to a stop. Carlisle walked over to the chief's window, which rolled down as the doctor approached. As Edward climbed out, Carlisle leaned casually against the car.

"How's it going, Charlie?" he asked. "Everything okay?"

The cop, Charlie, nodded. "Found him wandering around by himself on my way home. He was just walking down my sidewalk."

Carlisle frowned. "What on earth were you doing all the way there? Or, in town, for that matter?" _Please don't say you drove—you're not supposed to be old enough for your license here!_

An excuse came easily enough. "We were on our way back," he said, shrugging. "Rosalie was getting on my nerves, so I got out and she drove off. I was going to walk here and get a ride from you."

Carlisle sighed heavily. _Half true?_ "That so?"

"Yeah." Half true.

Carlisle ran a hand over his face in a very human gesture. He looked back at the cop. "You have kids, Charlie?"

"I have a daughter. Doesn't live here, though."

"Be grateful you only have one," Carlisle said, sighing again. "I love these kids." He wrapped an arm around Edward's shoulder and turned him so they were side by side. "I do. But I'll be damned if they don't make me crazy sometimes."

Charlie laughed. "Yeah. I get calls from my ex-wife freaking out that Bella's not 'as happy as she used to be,'" he said, putting up air quotes. He shrugged. "I think it's that she's a teenage girl."

Carlisle smiled. "How old is your daughter?"

God, did he _have_ to stand here and talk with Carlisle while he caught up with some boring cop with not a lot on upstairs?

"Fifteen. Freshman, same as your son." Charlie squinted. "Didn't catch your name, young man."

"This is Edward." Carlisle grinned. "The youngest." _Take that, second oldest child. Don't think I don't see you doing the, 'I wanna go home' foot dance._ "And I now need to take him home so I can deal with my oldest, Rosalie." He reached in the car to shake the cop's hand. "Good to see you, Chief."

Charlie grinned. "You too, Chief."

Edward managed to smile at Charlie. "Thank you for the ride, sir," he said. "I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you at all."

Charlie shook his head. "Not at all, son." He waved, then he was gone, down the road.

Carlisle turned to Edward. "So, I see you've met Chief Swan."

Edward shrugged, scowling again. "I suppose so. Not the brightest bulb in the box."

Carlisle smiled and turned them toward his car. "So, would you like to go home, or go hunting, just you and me, no siblings?"

Edward actually brightened. "Is that a trick question?"

Carlisle laughed, and they walked toward the car. "You need to get away from that house. Too much of anything is toxic, son. So tell me what your baby sister did to get on her big brother's nerves _this_ time."

"She spoke."

This time, the laughter was louder than ever, and this time, Edward joined him.

_a/n I already know what's next. And I know there's going to be a companion piece to this._

_Couple of notes: Charlie talks about the kids being polite and respectful, so he had to meet them sometime, right?_

_Also, if you've been bad like me and read _Midnight Sun_, Edward mentions thinking that the chief has slooooow thoughts, hence the "not a lot upstairs" references. So he had to have been around him before, right?_

_We're out of time. Bella's next, with a little twist. Reviews rock my sox._


	10. Dream

_a/n I feel that after four books of Bella, she's been voiced enough. Plus, she was family during _Twilight_, so no news there. Sorry this took so long—4__th__ of July was nuts, and involved arranging of music and waving my arms while sweating enough to fill a couple of water bottles._

_Couple of answers to your questions: _

_*Rosalie had to be the "oldest" of the Cullen kids in the last chapter, to me. The actual oldest (physically) of the kids are Emmett and Jasper, but they all three play off the same age. And Rosalie's the kind of girl, to me, who would have to be the oldest twin, being the superior girl she is. _

_*Charlie's lights are all on. You just need to read what we have of _Midnight Sun_ (because, let's be honest, it's gonna be a long time before we see anything else, so I read it). For those of you who haven't read it, let me just tell you, Bella's silence came from _somewhere_, and she did say she's got too much Charlie in her…_

_*Back a couple of chapters, someone asked what the hell Tanya was doing there in the first place. I asked myself the same question while I wrote, and came up with no good answer, other than she's stalking. She's a very sexy creeper._

_Enjoy. I don't own Twilight, the Rolling Stones, Prince, or the Everly Brothers. I do own my musicianship skills, a puppy dog, my car, Sylvester, and a few clothes, but that's about it._

**Dream—Forks, Washington, December, 2007**

The holidays were shaping up nicely, unlike the last year. Jacob and Emmett were camped, with some degree of permanence, on the sofa, playing "World of Warcraft." Alice and Rosalie were looking for new shoes online. Jasper had his arms folded and stood behind Alice, frowning, and thinking about how much she was spending. Carlisle was reading, Renesmee perched in his lap with her own thick volume.

Esme and Bella had decided to put up the Christmas tree. Edward had decided to watch, knowing that his wife's back would probably be to him quite frequently, giving him a prime view of her butt.

Alice had popped in one of those "Now" Christmas CDs, which Bella had promptly changed to the Rolling Stones. Now, she was dancing along to the music, carefree and graceful.

"Mommy?" Renesmee's little voice piped up from the couch.

Bella stopped dancing, and turned. "What is it, baby?"

"You sing pretty." Renesmee smiled, and went back to her book.

She didn't need to blush. Edward knew she was embarrassed. He grinned at her and she smiled back before turning around again to continue decorating the tree. An odd sense of déjà vu washed over him while he watched her.

The music changed again, to some eighties mix Alice had made. Bella didn't stop dancing. Alice had finished her shopping and started packing for their next move.

Everything was so wonderfully normal.

After another twenty minutes or so, Edward heard Renesmee's thoughts change. She was getting tired of her book, and a little sleepy, but she wasn't even admitting it to herself. Edward caught her eye and held out his arms. She climbed down from Carlisle's lap and moved to his arms. He bundled her up there and held her to his chest. She snuggled up, thinking how nice Daddy smelt. He tickled her sides a little, and she gave a little squeak before burrowing deeper into his arms. Edward laughed and kissed the top of her little head.

_So beautiful._

It was Alice. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs holding a box and watching as Bella danced. Edward winked at his sister.

_I'm so glad you're finally happy._ Alice smiled as she sat down on the arm of the sofa, leaving her box at her feet. _You deserve to be this happy._ They both watched as Bella tossed her head back to sing along with the chorus, still swaying, her long hair swishing gently with the movement of her hips.

Again, that sense of déjà vu. Alice felt it this time, too, but she brushed it off and picked up her box again.

"So." Alice and her box marched to stand in front of Emmett, who scowled at her. Even sitting, he was still eye to eye with her.

"Yes?" Emmett tried to lean to see around her. "You know, Alice, you're a lot better door than window."

She dropped the box, folded her arms, and popped her foot. Not a good stance. Bella stopped decorating and cocked her head off to the side to watch.

Alice smiled. It was the "cute, yet deadly sister" smile that actually scared Emmett more than a lot of other things. It held much more power. "Emmy bear, do you know what's in this box?"

_Shit, she found them!_

"Oh, God," Edward muttered, seeing what Emmett had hidden. "Those things _should_ have been thrown out in the eighties."

"What is it?" Jacob reached down to open the box and slowly pulled out the ugliest pair of stonewash jeans ever created.

Bella burst out laughing. "Those are horrible!" She darted over to snatch them from Jacob and held the up. "Oh, my God! I thought stonewash jeans were an Alice no-no."

"Ew," was Jacob's only response, and he went back to playing their game.

Edward watched as Bella folded the jeans back up and put them in the box. She straightened up, and stared at Alice. "You okay?"

Alice wasn't really seeing the future. She was seeing something else, revisiting something she'd already seen. Her mind flashed through visions she'd brushed away, before something in her mind clicked.

_Alice, standing in the middle of a dust storm, a vision of a brown haired woman flashing by…_

_Alice, sitting in the living room of his Chicago house, listening to the Rolling Stones, another vision of a woman, dancing, long brown hair running down her back…_

Edward stared at Alice, his mouth actually hanging open a little. Bella frowned. "What's wrong?"

_Alice, in a room full of high school children, seeing Emmett hiding his hideous stonewash jeans…_

It had never been clear, always fuzzy and indistinct, but it had always been there. The visions Alice had never been able to make heads or tails of, the ones that had popped up every few years, were of _this_.

Why was this moment significant?

There were so many other things she could have seen, but never had. Bella was still frowning, and it distracted him. He wanted her smiling, not frowning. He was finally, _finally_ happy, and he wanted to dump that happiness on her.

"Nothing, love," Edward said, finally answering her question. She cocked an eyebrow. He tugged on her hand and pulled her closer to him, and he pulled her in for a kiss. "I'll tell you later."

She pouted. "Fine."

Renesmee chose that moment to yawn widely, and Edward turned his attention to his sleeping daughter. She was deeply asleep already, and the last thing she needed was noise. Carefully, he got to his feet and headed upstairs, Bella following him.

_Put her in your old room._ Edward almost jumped when he heard Bella's thoughts. She winked at him and he grinned back at her.

Renesmee rolled around a little once she was down, making little noises that made Edward's stone heart melt.

It still threw him. He was someone's husband and lover, and he was a father. He had a beautiful wife and child who made him so happy he felt like he would burst.

He watched as Bella ran a hand over their daughter's curls before dropping a kiss on her little cheek and backing away for the door.

Back downstairs, a little chaos had started up. Carlisle was stalking his wife, growling playfully. Jacob was hiding under a pillow, and Emmett was watching them, a little shocked.

It was a side of Carlisle and Esme the kids didn't always get to see. Edward knew it best, since they had _always_ been like this, and it had been easier to notice with only three of them. Still, it gave Bella a shock, and her mind opened.

_What. The. Hell. Really, did he just _growl_ at her?_

Edward grinned. "Can't forget, love, they're both in their twenties."

Esme squealed then, trying to hide between Emmett and the sofa.

"Oh, hell no," Emmett said, bolting from the sofa and leaving Esme exposed.

"Please, no!" Esme squealed, trying desperately to sound like a fiend was stalking her. "Anything but that!"

Carlisle pounced. The couch slid back about a foot and Carlisle dangled mistletoe over his wife's head before peppering her with kisses. She giggled hysterically before snatching it back.

"They get a little silly around mistletoe," Edward explained. "It gets worse every year."

"Which reminds me," Carlisle said, grinning as his wife hung mistletoe from a doorframe.

_It was their first Christmas with Esme. "I've never gotten to kiss anyone under the mistletoe. Someday, Edward, don't be surprised to find me stalking you with the stuff when you go crazy for some girl."_

The old Edward had scoffed.

The new Edward yanked his beautiful wife under the doorframe and into his arms for a kiss. Bella giggled against his lips, and he couldn't help grinning a little.

His family's thoughts ranged at the moment. It was a mix of _Jesus, dude, get a room!_ and _Oh, they're so happy. It's so nice to see him happy._

He was happy, and damn it if he didn't have some serious payback for Emmett.

His lips finally left hers, and their family returned to normal, for the most part. Bella stayed in his arms, though, and he swayed back and forth with her to the music.

Maybe that was why today was significant. For the first time, it was a stress free holiday where Edward was not the one sitting in the corner, brooding, annoyed by the public displays of affection going on around him. He was dancing with the most beautiful woman in the world while his baby girl slept peacefully upstairs.

He kissed her again while he spun her, pulling away to sing quietly in her ear, and his smile grew as she sang with him.

_I need you so that I could die  
I love you so and that is why  
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is  
Dream, dream, dream, dream  
Dream, dream, dream, dream_

_a/n Not sure if it's really over, or if we'll have future shots, or… Ooooo! I forgot Jacob! Fuckerdoodle…_

_I'm brainstorming a companion piece to this. More info soon. Put me on author alerts, and I'll try to post here when it's ready to kick off._

_Reviews? Seriously, they turn me on, baby. And I do read them. All of them. Every one. Including the smiley face someone left me… : )_


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